


Morning After in the Manor

by overratedantihero



Category: Batman (Comics), Midnighter (Comics)
Genre: Drabbles, Multi, Multiple Relationships, light and fluffy, the tags will be updated accordingly
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 09:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12055890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overratedantihero/pseuds/overratedantihero
Summary: A series of drabbles in which Alfred does his best in a household that never ceases to vex him.





	Morning After in the Manor

**Author's Note:**

> More accurately: Alfred frequently walks in on the kiddos and their significant others, and eternally suffers.

Alfred Pennyworth carefully topped the mountain of plated pancakes with a garnish of raspberry. Making breakfast for Dick was both a pleasure and a challenge. Jason always appeared uncomfortable when Alfred doted on him, and Tim was too used to luxury to be phased. Damian was a spitfire, but a spoiled spitfire. And Bruce was far too grumpy in the morning. But Dick? Dick was a joy to wake up. Even though Dick had grown up quite a bit over the years, his bright, energetic demeanor never left even if it had, a few times, faltered. And the unadulterated excited that Dick exuded over something as simple as French toast was gratifying in a household of brooding bats.

 Alfred relished the delight in Dick’s eyes when Alfred woke him with something sweet and rich, but Alfred still wanted to do his due diligence in slipping Dick _some_ form of fruit or vegetable. Rhubarb pancakes smothered in ganache, whipped cream, and berries wasn’t the healthiest choice, but it would hopefully broaden Dick’s palette. Or perhaps Alfred was just making excuses for spoiling him, as Alfred tended to do for all the children. Otherwise, he never would have allowed any of them leave with Bruce in that brightly colored cape and costume. He would have put his foot down the very first time he’d had to stitch them up and ice their cracked bones. But Alfred was never any good at telling any of the boys no.

The Manor was fairly empty, with Damian spending the weekend at Titans Tower, Tim with Kate and Stephanie, Jason with the Outlaws, and Bruce attending Justice League business. And so, Alfred took the singular plate he had to deliver that morning, with its mountain of berries, and trekked across the Manor to wake up the lone member of the household left.

But as Alfred raised his fist to knock on the door and announce his presence, he froze. On the other side of the aged wood, Alfred could hear voices- Dick’s and someone else’s. It appeared Master Dick wasn’t alone.

The first time Alfred had walked in on Dick when he’d had an overnight guest, Dick was barely eighteen and returned for the week from Titans Tower. Alfred had become used to walking in unannounced, as Dick was usually asleep anyway. And he had been asleep, but curled up next to him, her fiery hair draped over his otherwise naked chest, was Korinad’r. She had sleepily blinked up at Alfred with her glowing green eyes, and when she lifted her head to rub at her face, Alfred had seen the red, inflamed hand prints scattered over Dick’s exposed skin. Alfred nodded to her in greeting and left quickly, returning a short time later with a second plate for her. By then, Dick had woken up and he looked mortified when Alfred set the plate next to the first. The two never discussed what Alfred had seen, although Dick returned from patrol that evening to see a bottle of aloe and a box of condoms by his bedside.

Having learned, Alfred now knocked. Except, this time, he hesitated as the voices filtered through.

“C’mon, Grayson. You gonna sleep all morning?” a sleep-thick, man’s voice murmured. There was a soft rustling and then, “If you get up, I’ll make you something other than sugar and cereal.”

Dick groaned. “No need. We’re in the Manor, Alfred will- oh, shit, Alfred!” There was more rustling and then a small crashing noise.

“Whoa, easy, Grayson. Don’t hurt yourself.” There was a thump and then a pain groan. The other man’s voice added, “Yeah, like that.”  

Alfred took his cue and rapped on the door several times. “Master Dick, I trust that you’re alright in there?”

There was a snort as the other man whispered, loudly, “Master Dick? Really? Do I have to make the joke, or are you already there?”

“Shut up, M.”

Since Dick wasn’t protesting, Alfred opened the door and pushed in. Dick was sprawled out on the floor, next to his toppled bedside table, in nothing but boxers and a bright red blush. The other man was lounging on his side on the bed, a sheet draped across his waist and legs. Upon seeing Alfred, Dick scrambled to his feet, opened his mouth, and then closed it again.

“I can, uh. I can explain,” Dick said, scratching the back of his head and glancing down at the floor.

“No need. Will your… friend need a plate as well?” Alfred raised his eyebrows at Midnighter.

“Nah, I’ll pick off the kid’s plate. Thanks,” Midnighter murmured, sitting up.

“Very well, then,” Alfred said, taking his leave. As he closed the door behind himself, he heard Dick whine:

“I’m going to die, why didn’t you warn me?!”

“Because. In the potential reality where I warned you, you didn’t make the face you’re making right now, and I didn’t want to miss that.”

Then, Alfred heard what was most definitely the sound of a down feather pillow being beaten against a couple hundred pounds of muscle. Alfred conceded that while he can’t stop his boys from growing up, he did look forward for Damian to come home so that he could relish his time with the youngest before…

The floor shuddered, jostling an expensive vase on a nearby table, as an “ow!” could be heard faintly from back down the hall.

Before he grew up into that.


End file.
